


Nudiustertian

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Episode: s01e28 The City on the Edge of Forever, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Maybe they’ll be stuck in the past, and Spock might consider changing.
Relationships: Edith Keeler/James T. Kirk, James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 12
Kudos: 113





	Nudiustertian

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Set during the “City on the Edge of Forever” episode.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Their living space is small, dingy, and thoroughly outdated, but that’s to be expected given their current circumstances—they came to the past with no money, not enough knowledge, and no time to lose. Both Jim and Spock make do with what little they’re given and what else they can find, neither daring to complain, perhaps because they both know that this could very well become permanent. There’s no guarantee that the Guardian will bring them back. There’s no guarantee they can even secure a future to go home to. Spock doesn’t allow himself to dwell on the less appealing possibilities. It makes more sense to focus all efforts on the goal they wish to achieve: find Dr. McCoy, right all of his wrongs, and take all three of them _home_.

He tries not to think about the tiny apartment around him and how it might become his home instead. It’s much too cold, the air too thick, the amenities painfully behind what he’s used to. But at least he’ll have _Jim_ , so it will be bearable. 

He doesn’t have Jim in the moment, which makes things so much harder. It shouldn’t. Spock stares blankly at the wall, tucked under the blankets, half willing himself to sleep—even his Vulcan half requires recharging in this trying time. The rest of him isn’t willing to drift off just yet, because Jim isn’t home. 

Then, like summoned by Spock’s yearning, the door is opening. A thread of light casts across the room, quickly shutting off again, and Spock hears Jim’s footsteps echoing through the darkness. Their curtains aren’t opaque enough to block out all the starlight, but if it weren’t for Spock’s superior eyes, Jim would only be a silhouette. Instead, he’s the handsome man he always is, waltzing right into Spock’s vision over by his half off the bed. 

He must have been out late with Edith, which Spock doesn’t ask about. He tells himself it isn’t his business, but deep down, he knows he doesn’t _want_ to know. He contents himself with watching Jim perch on the end of the bed and slip off his shoes, broad back arching forward as he undresses. Then fabric rustles, and Spock knows Jim is undoing buttons—he watches the red plaid fabric slowly peel away. For a man that was built for command gold, Jim looks remarkably _good_ in old-fashioned fleece. 

He pops open his jeans but goes no further, instead turning to slip under the blankets. Spock can feel the mattress dipping with his weight, his legs nudging up next to Spock’s, the extra warmth more than welcome. Spock tells himself that’s what he’s really craved: the heat of his captain’s body. Jim rolls to face Spock and sees Spock’s open eyes, smiling thinly as though he expected no less.

“You didn’t wait up for me, did you, Spock?” Jim asks, his voice low and hushed, even though it’s just the two of them alone in their room. It might always be _just the two of them_. At least, until Jim falls too deeply in love with a woman who should be long dead to them. 

And the hardest part of that is that Spock thinks he could stop it if he wanted to. It could be so easy, requiring only a few short words. He knows that Jim could never have any bond with Edith half as strong as _theirs_ , and Edith could never know _Jim Kirk_ as deeply as Spock does. But Spock and Jim’s bond transcends any simple romance—they’re _captain and commander_ , and Spock doesn’t have the luxury of blurring that line.

Maybe he’ll have to, if they really are stuck here—if they never see their ship again. Maybe Spock could shatter that wall between them and let Jim in like he knows Jim wants. All he’d have to do is embrace the Earth around him and actually be candid with his _feelings_.

But that won’t happen. Spock will do all he can to see his captain safely home. He murmurs, “Of course, Jim.”

Jim looks surprised for half a second, then unbearably _fond_. Spock can’t withstand the radiance of his smile. It was so much easier in the simulated light of the _Enterprise_. Everything looks so different in a dark bed they share between them. Maybe if Jim thought Spock truly available, he’d save more of those smiles for Spock instead of Edith.

But that’s an unproductive thought unworthy of a Vulcan. Edith has been good to them. Jim deserves every happiness, including a lover of his own kind that can show him the emotional passion he needs to fulfill him.

Spock rolls over onto his other side, knowing that they’ll have to buy two beds if they stay in this time. One just won’t work. 

The mattress dips lower, and Jim shuffles up against Spock’s back, curling into it and wrapping around him. One arm loops over his waist; Jim cocoons him completely.

Jim breathes across his shoulder, “Good night, Spock.”

Spock breathes, “Good night, Captain,” and closes his eyes.


End file.
